


Outbloom

by vesperss



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Park Chanyeol-centric, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-08 06:31:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18889090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesperss/pseuds/vesperss
Summary: Chanyeol doesn’t want to perish as a consequence of the most alluring man he has ever met, all he wants is to love him and to be loved back.





	Outbloom

**Author's Note:**

> oh man, this was a wild ride.  
> I want to thank my beautiful baby M, who helped me revising most of this work, without you this would have been messier than it already is. Thank you to R, too, you were the first one to tell me it was worth to keep going. And thank you to all of you who are taking the time to read, I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

 It started out as an average day; after a home–made flat white accompanied by almond cookies — that Chanyeol got from a bakery in Teheran-ro, a week ago, when he got lost — he found himself staring at his inbox: full of e-mails to read, to reply to, and to delete. The thing is, he can’t do any of that until he fixes the issue at the phone right now.

And well... just because something is big, doesn’t mean it can handle much.

Ever since the Blooming Days team started planning this wedding, Chanyeol has been at the phone for hours talking to florists, photographers, hotel managers and many, many people who might help them make _this_ ceremony the _perfect_ ceremony.

It _has_ to be.

That's what Baekhyun wants, that's what Chanyeol wants too. And then, Chanyeol’s ears are big, but they’re tired. Despicable tired.

“Yes, I have called The Shilla and The Namsan but–”

 _Fuck_. He stopped counting after sixteen, but he is almost certain this is the hundredth time this happens, and there is no doubt in his mind it will keep happening.

“Sunbae!” Chanyeol’s commissures sink below his cheeks as his lower lip swells and transforms into a pout. “Sohee-ssi hung up on me!” He heaves and lets his head bang loudly against the table. “ _Again_.” Just as he breathes, Chanyeol feels the energy drain out of his body, little by little — trifling crumbs of energy bleed from his every pore and fall down from the desk to the tiles of the floor.

Jung Sohee — better known as “the team’s worst client ever” — wants to change her reception venue once more, and Chanyeol cannot handle it anymore. The first adjustment was fine, Miss Jung thought the wedding hall wasn’t safe enough for children; her and her soon-to-be-husband’s family is large and abundant of kids. Later that same week, three days after Chanyeol called the next venue in line, she said the new one wasn’t big enough. So Chanyeol did it again, he called to cancel and then called the third venue.

He is looking at the phone number of venue number six now. And, God, if this one doesn’t please Miss Jung, he will be left with their very last alternative.

“You gotta stop being so nice, man. The second time she asked you to change the venue you should’ve said you know your job. I know you do.” Byun Baekhyun, Chanyeol’s mentor,  laughs as he takes the mouse of his computer to click on a new tab, then types Chanyeol’s username and password as if they were his own. “Attach the new schedule to the mail,” he continues speaking, typing and making Chanyeol blush because damn, he is so cool _and_ pretty, “also let her know El House is her best option.”

With that, Baekhyun shoots the brightest beam towards Chanyeol and walks away, leaving an echo of the finest essence and aroma his cubicle had ever known.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

It might look like he is tip–toeing, but he’s only being cautious.

Two in the morning of Kang Seolji and Han Insoo’s big day… and there’s something wrong with the cake. There is everything wrong with the cake because there is no cake. There will not be a cake if Chanyeol doesn’t find a way to _be_ a cake.

“Where are you going?” Baekhyun’s sleepy grunt stops Chanyeol on his tracks.

Maybe, Chanyeol isn’t that cautious after all.

“To… to the bathroom.” His eyes grow so wide that the sharp tilt at the end of their lateral commissures looks almost childish, giving him a full aura of innocence right in front of his boss.

“Okay.” Baekhyun can’t avoid the slight smile creeping on his face, at the sight of the large man who acts as if he had committed a crime.  “Did you get an answer from anyone?”

Chanyeol shakes his head while biting the interior of his lower lip.

God, they are screwed

 

“I love you. I love you so much, dammit.” Chanyeol got a cake and Baekhyun’s eyes are flickering with delight. “I want to kiss you. Can I?”

Chanyeol is about to choke on his own saliva. He manages to nod, though.

Too bad all he remembers is Baekhyun’s effulgent smile and a heavy giggle once he was done kissing him.

Eunbin says there was tongue involved. Minho insists it was just a peck — a very long peck.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

A rival wedding–planning company offered Chanyeol a job a week ago, they would double the pay he is getting at MHA, he would be the leader of his own team and he would have to work less hours a week.

He declined and he doesn’t know why.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

It’s a charming noontide — tawny sunbeams flicker above the crowded garden, the light turquoise sky hangs clear and halcyon, embosoms sentiments of euphoria and merriness.  Chaeri’s scarlet dress and rosy cheeks contrast breathtakingly against her freshly tanned skin, and Chanyeol is elated as he beholds the beauty of her so-enthusiastic sister. Elated, happy, and pleased, to see her sister at all.

“You have no idea, Chan,” she rejoices, hops and claps — all at the same time. “Santorini was incredible. I had the chance to stay for three or four days more at Pyrgos, Fira and Perivolos but my favorite was Kamari. You totally have to come with me the next time!”

Chaeri embarks on a buoyant blabber about Greece, the delectable gastronomy and some moroccan group of girls she met at Incheon Airport; as they keep walking, Chanyeol holds Chaeri’s index finger with his pinky because his own is too grand for her to hold. There’s a wave of words going back and forth blissfully among the atmosphere when they arrive to their favorite eating house: Plant Café, and Chaeri asks for the remotest table in the room: “Please, make sure it has cushioned seats and great ventilation too,” she chimes euphoniously, igniting a sweet sigh and nod from the host attending the duo.

Chanyeol is absolutely sure, that woman could make a thousand demands, and no one would be rattled by virtue of her heavenly aura. The Chaeri Effect.

One minute later they are being guided to their table — which consists of a simple, clean cut block of maple wood, and a thin, mint colored column base. At the sides, there are two white chesterfield single sofás, decorated with one colorful striped pillow each.

Chaeri, flat out, grabs her blue-white-pink pillow and sinks in her seat.

“... I met someone,” she buzzes, suddenly showing signs of being timid, which doesn’t happen often, and Chanyeol finds it amusing.

“Okay… and…?” Chanyeol inquires, expecting his sister to give more details about that someone, the situation she met that someone, or _anything_ about that someone.

“And... nothing, you know, he is a traveller. I think, after Greece he was going to Portugal, then México, then Argentina… but he wasn’t sure, his plans change all the time.” She shrugs her shoulders, all of a sudden her initial fervency takes one last breath. “But we still speak, of course, it’s not the same but it keeps me entertained for a while.”

Chanyeol knows his sister more than well, and he comprehends she is only trying to stop the conversation from going anywhere deeper, further, where she does not want it to go just yet. He also knows, Chaeri will speak to him about the issue if it truly matters and if she truly needs to. Due to Chaeri being the lone adventurer their parents worry too much about, she doesn’t have many friends in South Korea — so Chanyeol takes the place of his brother and his best friend, which means, sometimes he knows a little too much, much more about her private issues than he would like to.

“These fries are so good and I can’t remember the last time we got them,” Chaeri gasps loudly. “Tragic.” She looks up from the menu in her small, hands and smirks at Chanyeol. “What have you been up to, gremlin? You’re, usually, not this quiet.” With her lips curled upward to one side and the raise of her eyebrows, Chanyeol figures he has to come up with something intriguing, no less than fairly attractive, or Chaeri would not leave him alone, at least until their food arrives.

“Uh… well, remember Baekhyun-ssi?” he questions first, and when Chaeri nods, he continues. “I’m officially a part of his team now a–”

Chaeri doesn’t hold back a yelp, even though the waiter is already taking her order and the sound provokes the poor young man to shudder a bit.

“Chanyeollie, that’s incredible! For sure I remember _Mister Byun Baekhyun_ ,” the tone she uses to to pronounce Baekhyun’s name sounds foreign but chic, in vogue, kind of how Baekhyun is, “you wouldn’t shut up about him when you met him.”

She stops merely for a few seconds, as the waiter moves on to Chanyeol, and then finishes taking his order.

“Like… you adored the way he handled things, and people, and–and all you wedding planners do.”

“Yes, he is– he outshines everyone else.” Chanyeol bites his tongue, thwarting his mouth from making one more sound. His sister sees through him easily, it’s comforting occasionally  — but this time he doesn’t want her to.

“I’m learning a lot from him.” He decides to wrap up.

Except, his brain comes down against him.

“And, I– uh, I think I like someone too,” Chanyeol whispers once the food gets to their table, and shoves a big piece of meat inside of his mouth.

 _Shit_ . Shitshitshitshitshit. _Fuck_.

Only, Chaeri hears him loud and clear him, and she is not letting this go.

“Oh my God, Chanyeol!?... Tell me everything right now! Oh my God!”

Chanyeol wants to dwindle, shrink, crater. Die. No, preferably, not die. Just dissolve into thin air until he can keep his fucking mouth shut.

He hadn’t even admitted his, very unwise, feelings to himself.

“W– well, h– he– she, _she_ is... pretty. You know, attractive. Really… cute.”

She knows. Oh God, Chaeri knows. She must know, there is no way she doesn’t–

“Obviously! Otherwise, why would you like her?” She rolls her eyes as she takes a bunch of fries in her mouth; there’s bean chilli and cheese sauce on the corners of her lips but that doesn’t seem to bother her

They keep talking about Baekhyun as if _he_ was a _she_ , because Chanyeol is aware that his sister is a good person, but he can’t tell how is she going to react if he tells her he’s homosexual, queer, gay, one of those who have been infected by that western culture disease. It is better to avoid it in the meantime, he will not ruin this moment. Not today.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

It’s almost impossible to pay attention to the folder laying on top of his desk if his head is annihilating him.

Miss Jung called again, first thing in the morning. She demanded to see the menu cards this afternoon, knowing they had agreed on printing the samples in three weeks

“Go home.”

The exasperation filling Baekhyun’s voice wasn’t usual, which made Chanyeol more nervous than normal. If he was an anxious mess around his boss generally, the look on his face then seemed hysterical.

“You can’t keep doing this. Stand up for your work. If you think she knows better than you then let her plan her own wedding. We are not puppets who they can handle anytime they feel like it. So go home, get some rest and come back when you decide you’re good enough to handle your clients. In the meantime I will let her know her request is not happening today but when we planned it.”

Chanyeol nods only after Baekhyun leaves his cubicle.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

There’s a small team gathering at Minho’s place, it’s the night after one of the wedding ceremonies they had been working on, and since then, Chanyeol has learned a few things about Baekhyun.

Previous to this day, he only met his mentor at work. He knew the classy, unsullied, creative and unconventional man, who wanders meekly all around the leeway looking carefully into his team’s duties. If Baekhyun heeds trouble within any member of the team, he rushes and gives them assistance, no matter how hard, big, small or simple the task is. But, oh boy, if he catches anyone disregarding or neglecting their assignments.

 

> For the Yun–Seo wedding — Chanyeol’s trial with the team — Baekhyun expected everyone to be invested on producing the finest low-budget wedding ceremony Seoul had seen to date. A couple of helpful acquaintances were enough to provide higher than baseline quality services; except not everyone weighed it the same way: most of the team, to be precise, didn’t give enough importance to the project, it wasn’t their priority.
> 
> Leader Byun was obligated to order everyone around, for about seven months, ensuing they would do their absolute best.
> 
> “They trust us the responsibility of creating something unique and significant,” he said once, “they count on us for their future fond memories, it’s our duty and commitment to make that day, their ideal day. They hire us to deliver a bit of paradise, only for a few hours. So let’s do our best.”
> 
> Chanyeol was at a loss of words as he felt his heart skip a beat, for the first time, because of his mentor, Byun Baekhyun.

And, he learned — Baekhyun is bossy because it’s his job to be bossy.

 

Chanyeol’s glass cannot be empty, according to Minji, so the red–haired girl pours some more liquor in. Songsunju is not Chanyeol’s favorite beverage, it only takes to look at his sour expression when he sips it to know, but if it takes some weight off of his shoulders that means it does the job.

“Ji-ya, you’re not getting anywhere with him even if you get him drunk,” Baekhyun’s dulcet tone rises above the laughter, the gabble and the music. “Let’s go, Channie, let’s get away from them.”

The nickname takes the lankier man aback. Since when is he a ‘Channie’ for Baekhyun-ssi?

“Sir, yes, sir,” Chanyeol splutters as he gets up from the couch, not before emptying his glass directly into his throat, for the seventh time.

“Man, what have they done to you?” Baekhyun raises an eyebrow and graciously his body shooks with mirth. Somehow, his chuckle goes straight to the last two places Chanyeol would want it to go.

 _Fuck_.

To his cock, and to his heart. He’s not sure which one reached first, but it’s now there and God knows how bad that will turn out after. If Baekhyun notices, Chanyeol severely hopes he will let it slip.

Chanyeol says goodbye by waving both of his hands as Baekhyun bellows a snappy “see ya”. They step out of the apartment, lazy and weary steps take them to the parking lot, where Chanyeol thinks Baekhyun will get him a taxi or something like that.

“I’m taking you home.”

A bewildered Chanyeol turns his face to meet Baekhyun’s eyes, only the shorter man is looking for his car keys in the inside of his back pockets. Bakehyun’s blue washed jeans are so tight it’s criminal to ignore the small lump on his left thigh that the keys are forming.

“There,” he mutters, pointing at the thigh.

Damn, it’s a very nice thigh. Chanyeol wishes he could kiss it for being such a nice thigh. _‘Good job’_ , he would say, and then he would kiss it, over and over again so it feels how grateful he is that there is a thigh like that in the world, that he can admire, praise and–

“Right. Thanks.” Baekhyun says without looking at him.

–and gaze occasionally.

Everyone has seen Baekhyun’s pristine white Hyundai Avante lined up on the second best spot of MHA’s parking lot, but the inside is still unknown ground, since the smart–glass of the windows doesn’t let anyone take a look.

“Get in,” Baekhyun mouths almost without a sound.

Chanyeol obeys with no hesitation, he’s curious.

Immediately after too–kind Baekhyun opens the door for too–drunken Chanyeol, he is welcomed by the cheekiest shade of carmine coating the seats. He’s too inebriated to recognize the material but if he had to guess, it would be leather. Leather suits Leader Byun.

“I’m all burned out, aren’t you?” Baekhyun inquires minutes after they hit the road. “Smiling all the time… it’s tiring. Don’t you think?... Channie?”

Chanyeol is too knee-deep looking at the man at the wheel’s mouth, gliding laxly and foxy just as he speaks, hence, he doesn’t truly listen. Maybe, if he could read people’s lips he would know what Baekhyun is saying — after all, he’s quite interested in the movement of his mentor’s lips, but again, Chanyeol is sufficiently hammered to read anything at all.

“Ah, of course you don’t. You’re naturally chirpy, that’s why I liked you from the beginning,” Baekhyun kept on chatting.

 

> Seo Hayun’s ravishing bouquet is nowhere to be seen. She swears she left it on the divan for a minute while she greeted the staff.
> 
> “Pink and yellow hydrangeas are too remarkable to get lost. I will find them, no matter how much it takes, understood?” Baekhyun grabbed her shoulders tenderly, his lips curling, growing into a kind smile while he tried to calm the bride. “Now go over there and let Seokyu-ssi set your hairdo. It’s your day! Enjoy it!”
> 
> Even after showing grand cathexis for finding the bouquet, Chanyeol could pick up the weakest hint of desperation flee through his mentor’s eyes — that’s why he walked towards him to help with the situation.
> 
> “We will find it, don’t look so crumpled. It’s almost show-time!” Baekhyun pealed enthusiastically with all his might.

The morning after, Chanyeol remembered every word as if he hadn’t gulped about two bottles of songsunju all by himself, and he learned — Baekhyun is cheerful because it’s his job to be cheerful.

 

Sunday morning, MHA’s offices are mostly empty, except for Chanyeol. His one and only task for the day is revising the final product the video editing team sent him. The Lee–Jeong ceremony happened three weeks ago and Blooming Days has only to give them the file of their wedding recording.

He thought there would be hours and hours of footage, but the video is merely three and a half hours long. 

All he sees is scenes he already saw live: the traditional ceremony, the religious ceremony, the cake, the dance, the speeches… 

 

> Jeong Hyelin holds the microphone in her hands, as her husband stands next to her. She is talking about how they met, then about how she asked him out — her friends cheer and their families laugh and seem taken aback — she goes on with the proposal, and after that she talks about the planning. 
> 
> The Blooming Days team is sitting on one of the best tables because that’s how she wanted it, for Hyelin every member was important and now, a friend.
> 
> “... You can’t imagine how many times I called Baekhyun-ssi crying and screaming about the dress, or the flowers, or Jaewoo. Mostly about Jaewoo.” She giggles, Lee Jaewoo frowns, and Baekhyun sobs. “I could talk to all of you about the wonderful job he did but it would be pointless because you can see it right now, this dream came true because of him. Especially the champagne we’re about to drink, because even after doing all this he gave us a wedding gift. Isn’t Baekhyun-ssi the best?...” 
> 
> There’s a glistening blush on Baekhyun’s nose and cheeks, the corners of his eyes tried to keep the tears away until it was too much to deal with, so he let them run across his features until the bride’s speech was over. Like clockwork, with the palms of his hands he removed the liquid drops off and continued chatting with Eunbin and Minji. 
> 
> At the end, as they were leaving, Chanyeol asked if Hyelin’s speech had touched a soft spot.
> 
> “Is this the first time you see me? I do it every time,” he answered shrugging his shoulders. 

That only means — Baekhyun cries at every wedding he attends just because.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

Chanyeol catches himself gaping at his boss way many more times than he should. He grasps, it’s more than admiration, he unknowingly admitted his feelings towards Baekhyun months ago but didn’t resolve to do anything about them.

So his hidden love keeps growing, and he is fine with it.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

That night turns out to be curiously idiotproof, mindless, compared to the burdensome weeks they’ve had lately. Minji suggests they get dinner together — outside of the office, of course, they can’t _always_ eat take-out.

“I know a place in Jung-gu, they serve international food and got vegan options.”

Chanyeol’s propound seems to please everyone, including to Minho, who is known in the company for having health issues that lead him to complain about Korean dishes having too much meat — which he cannot eat.

 

“I can’t believe this doesn’t taste like cardboard,” Baekhyun whispers with a full mouth.

It is quite unbelievable, to be honest. He ordered some Italian pasta with a weird name because he wanted to try something new, but it turns out his serving had a pale brown color and a spongy look. Looks odd but apparently it _is_ edible.

“Want.” Chanyeol hears a demand to his right, where his boss is sitting. “Give me,” he insists.

“What?”

“Pizza. Give me pizza.” Baekhyun pouts, Chanyeol loses it.

First, Chanyeol shares his pizza with Baekhyun, and the next thing he knows is Baekhyun is also sharing his cardboard with him. But the second Eunbin gives Chanyeol a side-eye look he realizes he has been too preoccupied taking care of Baekhyun’s needs, looking after him like he’s a child. Perhaps, he didn’t notice before because Baekhyun is taking his attention very blissfully, and God help Chanyeol because a happy Baekhyun equals a stunning Baekhyun — as if he wasn’t stunning all the time, damn.

 

Everyone else goes home the moment they walk out of the restaurant. Eunbin has to pick up her son from her sister’s house and Minji offered to give her a ride; Minho lives with a roommate and he doesn’t trust him the apartment on a Friday night; Baekhyun and Chanyeol are the only ones left, and to Chanyeol’s dismay, it feels too much like a television drama.

They decide to walk, but their bellies are full so after ten minutes of trying — really hard, they sit.

Nirvana bursts from the alameda beside the restaurant: teenagers running up and down, couples walking on the garden and the street, Baekhyun sitting next to Chanyeol, under the chirping glints of the fairy lights placed above the bench, tied from one streetlight to another. They give a new kind of glistening to Baekhyun’s eyes.

“You think soulmates exists?” Baekhyun tilts his head to the side.

“No,” Chanyeol breathes, “that’d be cruel.”

“Why so?” His inquire is more a riddle than a question.

“My sister believes in soulmates, y’know? She’s been looking for hers all around the globe and she hasn’t found him, so either, you find the one and live happily with them, or you don’t and the both of you live without each other. What if you find your soulmate and they already gave up on finding you?” Chanyeol shakes his head. “It’s better to find someone on your own, no destiny or faith entangled.”

Baekhyun attempts to smile and let it go because that’s what he does best — or he makes it seem that way. What’s imminent, though, is that he askews criticism.

“What about you? Do you think they exist?” Chanyeol asks.

Baekhyun’s tongue peeks merrily holding back a chuckle. “I know they do,” he grins slowly and quietly shuts his eyes, then lets his head fall on Chanyeol’s shoulder. “I’ve found mine.”

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

Sometimes when he’s the last one to leave the office he hears voices coming from the floor above them.

The Monday Blues team must be working very hard on an event. They plan all types of parties, going from kids birthday parties to bachelor/bachelorette parties; it’s funny that they’re doing so well considering their specialty is quite simple. Chanyeol knows they perform an excellent job, but he can’t think of anyone else planning a surprise birthday party for one of his friends or family, it would feel unnatural and passive — and he is passive.

 

As soon as he walks past the reception desk on the first floor he swears he hears Baekhyun’s voice on the hallway and a sudden smell of fresh flowers invades his nostrils, but he looks and there is no one else around.

He’s in too deep, God, too deep.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

Chanyeol is on the phone with Miss Jung, her wedding is taking place twenty days from now and she is, surprisingly, more amicable than in the early days, she’s even making jokes.

Chanyeol laughs until his lungs comence bursting, filled with something that’s not air and it aches. He drops the phone to the ground and vaguely hears Miss Jung calling for him.

_Oh, fuck._

It wounds so bad he ponders if that’s how hell feels like. His eyes water long before he notices, thus, there are tears leasing his cheeks the moment Baekhyun walks in, epitomizing his characteristic breezily smile, that fades as soon as he realizes what’s happening.

Chanyeol’s impoverished eyesight can barely recognize who is the person walking in, but the instant his eyes meet Baekhyun’s, one thundering bundle of silken petals, full perfect  flowers and piercing stems, commence dripping from his throat.

Pansies, nettles, and the realization of what Chanyeol feared the most, cover the entire surface of the floor. 

Baekhyun scrutinizes the circumstance, and stares at Chanyeol amid a tumultuous hazy expression, then kneels in front of his colleague's wide figure. Ignoring, or not complaining, about the petals and saliva getting stuck on his jeans. His thin, delicate hands hold Chanyeol by the shoulders, clutching tightly as he takes a deep breath before speaking. 

“They are deadheads, you know that? Stupid enough to ignore the wonderful man you are.”

Chanyeol feels another thump in his chest, but this time it’s different. It’s a sneer, a mockery of his grim luck… and because he never thought he would hear Baekhyun call himself “foolish”, let alone “a deadhead”.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

Various medical studies were suggested before the doctors gave their final diagnosis. 

“Hanahaki,” Dr. Bae says, “that’s our verdict.”

Chaeri is accompanying him, on the corner of his eye Chanyeol can see she’s crying. “I’ll be fine,” he murmurs to his sister before asking the doctor for more information. 

The Hanahaki Disease is a quite common illness, that doesn’t mean it’s less painful or severe. Many say it’s just how love feels like, but many others disagree; Chanyeol doesn’t have a conclusion yet, he’s been ill for less than a week but it has been the worst week of his entire life. Baekhyun gave him several days off to treat himself and think of what’s going to be his next step. 

He can try getting Baekhyun to fall in love with him. 

He can try ignoring his feelings, hoping they go away. 

He can try surgery and forget about Baekhyun, for good, forever. 

He can die trying any of them.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

“There is no such thing as ‘many days off’”, Chaeri whines.

“I need my job, Chae.” _I need to see him_.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

As Chanyeol arrives, he overhears Baekhyun’s tender instructions to their staff. The man is a perfectionist and kind of a stickler — every candle, every flower, every bow and every everything must be perfectly aligned, sorted by size, color or importance. Baekhyun knows no line that’s not straight, but that doesn’t mean he is not sympathetic or unkind. Chanyeol assesses, quite quickly, that’s one of the many reasons he fell for him. 

At first, when Chanyeol joined the company — later the Blooming Days team — Baekhyun helped him get along with everyone else, he tried his best to make Chanyeol feel as a part of the unit, and to teach him every little secret he knew about wedding planning. 

“Channie, thank the Lord you’re finally here.” Baekhyun’s features soften smoothly. “Can you, please, help Sujin here?” he asks, pleading eyes and pouty lips on full blast. How could he, ever, say no? “I’ll help you later with the groom, I promise.” 

Chanyeol cracks a smile and nods. “Sure, no problem,” he answers as his hands take the first flower from the row and avoids smelling it.

He hopes, a little too helpless, the aroma doesn’t trigger the flowers he already has inside.

Sujin is a new member of the team, replacing Minji because she had to travel overseas all of a sudden. The new girl is really kind and smart, Minho, Eunbin and Baekhyun seem to esteem her and her work, a lot — and they’re quite hard to impress.

“Are you staying at the wedding with Baekhyun-ssi?”

Chanyeol hums approvingly. “We gotta make sure nothing goes wrong. And if anything does, we fix it before anyone notices.”

“You sound like him,” Sujin giggles and continues adjusting the coral candles on the floor, while Chanyeol takes care of the white ones.

“I wish I was as good too.” Chanyeol stops for a moment and faintly scans the room until he finds Baekhyun. He’s wearing a velvety sienna turtleneck; fitted, but not skinny, burgundy slacks; and warm mahogany colored shoes. As he speaks enthusiastically to the bride and her mother, Chanyeol thinks he has never felt so hopeless.

“I had Hanahaki when I was seventeen,” Sujin speaks after a saturnine silence eclipsed the atmosphere.

“Oh… Sucks, yeah?” Chanyeol brusquely mumbles.

“Yeah. So why did you come back?”

An acrid feeling furnishes Chanyeol’s senses, the clog of the petals within his throat and lungs bursts and burns. It’s not the — now — usual feeling of vomiting out his sentiments, but the petulance, fury and annoyance of a person — a nobody — trying to release him, to set him free of his love.

Chanyeol is not ready, he cannot and will not cease the fervid passion and affection he has for Baekhyun.

“Because I love him,” he grunts and swallows his words.

 

Baekhyun stares at him for a second and laughs only to return his gaze to the front where the father of the bride is giving a speech, meanwhile, Chanyeol just witnesses passively:

Teary eyed and flashing a roborant grin, Baekhyun clashes his palms to one another, clapping and whooping and getting on his tippy toes.

Chanyeol keeps observing, beholding; not smiling, not breathing, just contemplating and promising he would hold on to that moment forever.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

It’s that time of the month when every worker has spent all of their paycheck, and there are a couple of days more left to survive. Perhaps, the main reason why Baekhyun is at Chanyeol’s apartment eating junk food to relieve the hunger of a three course meal they can’t really afford.

“I’m so getting a bigger belly after this,” Baekhyun huffs. “And Taeyeon is on a diet, she’s going to murder me.”

“Taeyeon? Why would she?” As far as he can remember, Taeyeon is a member of the Monday Blues team. “Were you on a diet thing together or something?” Chanyeol frowns.

“Dude, no way, I would never diet. But come on, no woman wants a fat boyfriend.” _Boyfriend?_

“I don’t understand.”

“Yes, boyf– wait. Channie, you didn’t know?” _Know what?_ “Taeyeon and I, we have been dating for two years.”

“Oh.” _Oh..._

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

Pink camellias. Chanyeol has been throwing up pink camellias for three days in a row. He googles it and he finds out they mean “longing”. There’s a very detailed explanation of what they mean precisely on people suffering Hanahaki, and a test for better results since every body and every person is different.

Chanyeol takes the test, presses Start.

  1. Your ideal Christmas tree is…?



 

He closes the window.

Six minutes later, more pink camellias.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

He finally opts for asking Baekhyun for more days off. His illness isn’t being really nice to him so it’s only fair.

Chaeri came back from Japan two days ago and she has been staying with him, promising she will not leave his side until he makes a decision and after that, to take care of him until he feels safe enough to live alone again.

“Your boss called while you were in the shower, he asked if you were free tonight and to text him your answer,” Chaeri says breathless and throws herself to the couch quite dramatically. 

“Did you uh, memorize that?” Chanyeol mocks her.

“Shut up, be grateful I didn’t forget to pass the message.” She sticks her tongue out and takes the control of the television to play the movie she had been watching, while Chanyeol texts Baekhyun saying: yes, he is free tonight.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

“I want you to lead the team for my wedding, Channie.” Baekhyun said, hope shining bright on his eyes. “I proposed to her yesterday.”

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

It’s late. At least late for Chanyeol since he’s used to go to bed at ten every day. He fights the urge to go faster, to dash — but he’s still conscious. He knows his overflowed blood runs by alcohol and he will not be _diseased_ and a _murderer_ at the same time.

The automobile’s heater is on full blast because he doesn’t know how to turn it off. He’s sweating too much, his palms are leaking, his hair is not wet — it’s soaking, but Chanyeol forgot how does his car work, yet, he’s somehow driving.

Perhaps, if he died there, he wouldn’t die because of Baekhyun. Because of Baekhyun’s boisterous laugh, or his amorous eyes. Chanyeol doesn’t want to perish as a consequence of the most alluring man he has ever met, all he wants is to love him and to be loved back.

He cackles, jeers at the impossibility.

The odds of Baekhyun falling for Chanyeol are way too grand to be measured. First, he would have to be a woman — because Baekhyun likes women, he has a girlfriend (fiancée, Chanyeol’s brain cells remind him) and he loves her. Second, he would have to be elegant — because Baekhyun burns for elegant things, elegant manners, elegant places, elegant people, elegant clothes… and Chanyeol’s most elegant attire doesn’t fit his limbs anymore. Third, he would have to feel confident in his own skin — and he doesn’t; he can’t; not when he’s driving in a disgraceful state of mind and matter, sweating, and encounters one big problem soaring from inside of his lungs.

He’s going to throw up, and he can’t stop the car.

How does the car stop?

Did he ever learn how to make the car stop?

Somebody help him.

Oh, God.

Someone help him.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

He sees him in the daytime and hears him at night. Chanyeol's eyes go blank after his head hits the mellow pillow in the motel-room bed. There's a dull electric shock hampering his senses, running up and down, drowsily lurking into his chest under the heaped nightfall. He can almost feel his bones going numb and his organs shutting down.

 _How did I get here?_ He would ask, if he didn't know the answer already.

He got there because Baekhyun is someone you cannot not fall for. The problem is Chanyeol saw it coming but didn’t do anything to stop it, and then, he fell too hard — and he didn't just fall but he doesn't want to get up. Getting up means losing the side of him Baekhyun has built, the best side he's got.

Chanyeol gained so much from loving him.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

It started out as an average day, like every morning since the day he realized his authentic — and gritty — feelings for Baekhyun. Chanyeol wasn’t even half awake when his thorax shrunk and succumbed to a throbbing agony. Gasping for air, as breathless as a human being can be without fading, the first petal gravitated towards his baby blue sheets.

Black. Unlike any of the flowers he had thrown up, this petal was black. One single black petal covered in spit.

“Your flower must be lovely,” Chanyeol grumbles and smiles peacefully, panting.

He gets up dropping his eyes towards the ground, throws the petal to the carpet and lets it meet the sheet of white and pastel colors. Chanyeol did his research a while ago so, probably, the petal coming out this morning was a black tulip.

It means he’s suffering.

It means he is reaching the point where he will no longer suffer.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

It’s love, he’s in love.

He doesn’t want to be.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

His eyes have seen those streets, he has walked that road several times and all he recalls is thinking, wishing Baekhyun was enamoured by Chanyeol; hoping Baekhyun treasured him, not for being good at his job, but as the love of his life; desiring Baekhyun held onto him because he loves him.

Too bad Baekhyun doesn’t.

As his feet move step by step, sometimes slowly, sometimes swiftly, his heartbeat plays allegro. Chanyeol closes his eyes, shuts them firmly but doesn’t stop ambling.

It's not the right time nor the right place to take a big decision. It doesn't matter because he does, anyway:

He's getting the surgery.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

Chanyeol is holding a bouquet of flowers: plenty of yellow acacias, white narcissuses and only a few pansies of different colors — pink, lilac, orange and red. Inside of a transparent plastic bag there’s a brand new toothbrush, too.

Baekhyun walks in, the first thing he sees — obviously, is the bouquet — after, the toothbrush.

“Channie… you went through all this to tell me I have bad breath?” He rapidly covers his mouth with his hand.

“No… no. I– I presented my resign this morning.” Chanyeol says, quickly.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I need time.”

“I see… I understand.” Baekhyun sighs.

“I’m sorry about your wedding, I’m sure the team will do a great job.” And Chanyeol truly feels bad. He would have loved to help Baekhyun and Taeyeon make their dream wedding a reality.

“Don’t worry about that, its fine. But, we are friends, right? I can visit you, I can call you?” His ex-boss sounds weak.

“Of course, yeah.”

“Okay, great. I'll call you later, then.” Baekhyun finally smiles.

“Sure,” Chanyeol nods and walks towards the door. Not before giving Baekhyun the bouquet, as a sign of thankfulness, maybe.

“Bye.” Baekhyun waves, and grins.

“Bye.” Chanyeol leaves.

 

Chanyeol did his research, yellow acacias signify secret love; white narcissuses signify yearning; pansies signify the desire of love being requited.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

Solemness. His head is about to drift, his mind is about to leave. Chanyeol is in that transition of sleep when you’re not here nor there, or you’re in both places at the same time.

He hears a motorcycle roaming from the street, his own breath, this thoughts. They’re deadly.

Death, he thinks, death is the only constant in his life at the moment, and he is not even lifeless yet. Not completely, at least.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

Chanyeol sees white everywhere. Walls, apparatuses, uniforms, sheets. White.

At this point it’s both unexpected and awaited, the scorch inside his throat rises. Then, flowers. Eglantines. Those are white too, they have a strange flavor. Taste gloomy and sweet, the slightest vim of sour. First, in his lungs. Then, in his throat. Later, in his mouth. At the end, on the floor.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

He has tried but now is not the time to stop thinking of Baekhyun. He will forget soon and forever. Why anticipate it? Maybe, Chanyeol thinks, he has thought of Baekhyun for every star in the sky. Then he wonders, if all the stars disappear once the memories are gone. Is Chanyeol going to look at them and feel the way everyone else feels?

It’s vapid, it’s insipid; pointless, even.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

The day he forgets is now.

Baekhyun came to see him, he left the room only two minutes ago but Chanyeol is too anemic and fragile to move fast. His legs weight too much, his lungs are collapsing, his eyes are open for a miracle.

“Baekhyunnie,” Chanyeol pants.

The hallway is empty, that’s too good, otherwise the man he — still — loves, wouldn’t have attended.

Baekhyun turns around and stares at him heavy-hearted. There are tears seeking to come out of his eyes and it seems he is seeking harder to keep them under cover.

A promise is what Chanyeol senses, but he can't quite fathom what that promise is about.

“Baekhyunnie,” Chanyeol repeats. His throat sounding sore and tired.

A part of him wants to run away before he says anything else, he can’t keep looking at Baekhyun in the eyes and not fall for him even deeper.

“I know.” Baekhyun smiles suddenly, even though it’s a dreary, pitiable smile.

The promise is there, is not broken, but it feels as if it never happened. “I know, Channie,” he whispers as strong as he can, even when his body seems like it’s about to go out like light.

 _Baekhyun knows_. He knows he can’t love Chanyeol the way Chanyeol wants him to, so this is it.

 

Goodbye.

 

 

❀ ✿ ❀

 

It started out as an average day, Chaeri and Chanyeol had breakfast at Plant like every Thursday and later they went to the mall. Now, they’re at the movies because Chaeri cannot wait to see her boyfriend on screen — she means Zac Efron.

Chanyeol tilts his head to the side to check how many people are before them in line. His sister assured him the cinema wouldn’t be that crowded at noon. Turns out, Chaeri was wrong.

“Come on, don’t be a party-popper,” she says as her feet jump up and down, excited to watch the movie she has been waiting for all year. “You’ll make me regret bringing you instead of my friends.”

Chanyeol laughs. “You don’t have any friends.”

“Rude.”

Both of them keep bickering while taking a step to the front. The line is moving, not fast but faster than expected, which makes Chanyeol happy because since the surgery he has been feeling a little bit less energetic. And not only that but he feels like something is missing.

When he looks up at the sky he wishes there was something, an answer, but all he sees is blue. The sky is clear, it’s as beautiful as they portray it in the movies, but it’s also bland.

In films, most of the time, people give a meaning to the sky… but Chanyeol doesn’t, perhaps because he’s not in a movie, so he doesn’t overthink it — but he perceives it.

“Sorry! Sorry!,” a shorter man apologises as he runs past Chanyeol swiftly after hitting him on the arm.

Chanyeol murmurs a little “no problem” that the guy probably didn’t hear.

There’s an abrupt change in the atmosphere. Chanyeol’s heart begins to beat a little bit faster but at a normal speed, as if it came to life, as if it worked clockwork before.

“You okay?”

Chanyeol turns to Chaeri swiftly when he hears her voice.

“I feel great.”

Chaeri seems taken aback. “Are you sure? You… your cheeks are really, really pink.” She grins and a scrubby laugh runs from her throat.

“I’m alive, Chae.”

Perhaps Chanyeol’s choice of words would sound redundant to anyone who didn’t know his story, but to Chaeri, they mean her brother finally broke out.

 

It only took one last look at Byun Baekhyun to be set free.


End file.
